Proud
by Echo Dancer
Summary: Warren Worthington/Angel confronts his father over joining Xavier's school. But it's about more than leaving home - it's a plea for acceptance and freedom to find his own path. Takes place behind the scenes after Alcatraz.


"**Proud"**

_Song lyrics by Steve Mac, Wayne Hector, and Andy Hill, and sung from the depths of soul by Susan Boyle on her debut album, "I Dreamed a Dream."_

If you have not heard Susan's rendition of "Proud," you owe yourself to find it and listen. It is soul-felt, gut-wrenching, and amazingly beautiful. I listened to her CD for the first time while working on another Warren/Angel story and it hit me that the song could have been written for that character as portrayed in "X-men: Last Stand." Various scenes began popping up in my head as Susan wove her vocal and emotional magic, and here is the resulting one-shot.

This is my first foray into X-men movie-verse and the song-fic genre. We saw so little of Warren in the movie that it's hard to get him 'wrong,' but if I slipped up on anything, please be kind.

I dedicate "Proud" to my friend Jamie, who is a huge movie-verse Warren fan. Thank you for the endless support and writing kinship. This one's for you!

Disclaimer: Naturally, I do not own the X-men, Marvel Comics, or any of their characters, and no money will ever be made from this story. The following was written entirely for enjoyment.

_Lyrics in italics._

### - ###

They faced off in his father's study; a room often off limits when he was growing up. Whenever the senior Worthington was not at the corporate tower, ultimate control of the multi-national juggernaut moved to their family estate. Warren had always felt intimidated by a subliminal power the room radiated, especially when occupied by the patriarch of Worthington Industries.

_All of my life,  
><em>_I have watched you  
><em>_Climbing mountains,  
><em>_Chasing dreams._

As he'd grown, the unsettling feelings hadn't dissipated. In fact, the study's karma had evolved over the years into an almost desperate craving for financial clout and influence. A hunger not driven by greed, but by Warren Worthington Jr's obsession with finding a cure for his son. He spared no expense, set few limits, twisted many arms, manipulated political agendas, withstood decries of naysayers, and did whatever it took to succeed.

In the end, Warren Worthington the father developed his cure at against all odds and at the price of massive sums of money, great sacrifice, and perhaps a piece of his soul.

Warren Worthington the son rejected it.

And now son faced father with a request that could drive the final wedge between them.

"You want to do_ what?_"

"They've asked me to stay, Dad. I think I can help."

"With what? It's supposedly a school – what can you help with?"

His father had suspicions about what Xavier's truly was, that Warren knew. Had he investigated the place his son had run to…make that flown to…after jumping through the Worthington Tower window to avoid taking the cure? He wouldn't put it past the man. There was little Warren did in life that his father didn't thoroughly examine for both appropriateness to their station in life and its risk of exposing his offspring as a mutant.

The overseeing was smothering.

"They offered me a teaching position."

Eyebrows shot up. "Really." The single word communicated disbelief and displeasure.

"Yes, Dad, they did." And they had. To provide a variable excuse and avoid outright lying, the X-men had offered him a small position on staff.

"You have no teaching credentials. What kind of school are they running?"

"Dad, please. I want to do this."

"No."

Anger flared instantly. He was an adult and could make his own choices! Yet standing in front of the man who had dictated every nuance of his life for as long as Warren was alive, he still felt like a child. Digging deep, he mustered courage.

"I'm going to go."

Cold ire sparked in the steel blue eyes that had frozen many a powerful person in their tracks. "Then do it. Why bother coming to me?"

"I would like your support."

"My support. You stand there announcing your defiance and then ask for my support." The accusation was served on ice. "Why would I support my only son and heir accepting a position at an unranked school for mutants with questionable hiring standards to avoid his responsibilities to family?" Leaning back in the Italian leather chair, his father's fingers drummed once on the desk, signaling that coming argument had better be compelling.

The man had summed up all objections in a single question in a small display of the acumen that had taken him to the pinnacle of the business world. How could Warren ever win his case? The wings twitched, which drew a disapproving look. Elder Worthington hated when he exposed the feathered appendages – the fear of discovery potent even within the fortress-like mansion.

"I'm not avoiding anything," Warren snapped back, lamenting instantly the inadequacy of the retort.

"Evidence indicates otherwise."

"Dad, I want to do something that makes a difference." Mistake! He shuddered, causing feathers ruffle slightly.

The blue eyes narrowed. "And training to one day take my place as CEO and Board President is not."

Statement – not a question. His father had been wounded, but would never allow himself show that. A sigh escaped before he could stop it. "Of course it is, but first I want to make my own mark…like you did. You took what grandfather started and look what Worthington Industries is today! I want that chance to make a mark – _my_ mark."

"You have that chance – in our company, Warren. What division do you want? Aerospace? Pharmaceuticals? Ag? What?"

Warren began to pace, wings spreading of their own accord. "No, Dad! That's what _you_ built – what _you_ created! I want something that's _me!_ Part of what I am. You're the business tycoon – you're great at it. It's in your blood. I'm not sure I'll ever be as good as you," he admitted.

_All of my life,  
><em>_You gave me everything,  
><em>_But you don't have to  
><em>_Give the world to me._

"You'll learn. I will teach you. Together, there's no limit to what we can accomplish. Name the unit that interests you most – tomorrow, it's yours."

Fists clenched and jaw worked. Warren felt himself lapsing into their old, tired routine. The father wanted the son to follow in his footsteps. The son wanted to blaze his own trail. He'd so hoped that day's conversation would be different. Foolish.

The elder Worthington leaned forward and watched Warren intensely. It made him even more self-conscious of the wings. They were another divide between them; and the gap widened each day since he rejected the cure.

"I will, one day – not now. The school's vital – it teaches mutant children. They do good work, Dad. Many of the kids have nowhere else to go."

His father rose in that controlled-anger way. Warren nearly shrunk back.

"And that's why you ran to that place afterward? Because you felt you had nowhere to go? I love you, son! I spent 10 years of my life trying to give you a normal life. And how did you replay me? By running to strangers."

"You want me to be something I'm not!" he charged back. "You want me to be normal. Dad, these…" his spread the wings wide, their ends brushed the mahogany bookshelves lining opposing walls, "make me different!"

"The cure can _change_ that!" The tone mixed frustration with a plea.

"And change me into something I'm_ not!_" He knew where this was leading…where it always led.

"What I did, I did to give you a chance at a fulfilling life. Those," the man's arm swept angrily toward the still outstretched extra limbs, "will limit you. Your life will be one of hiding, always afraid of exposure. The older you get, the more difficult that will become, not only physically, but emotionally. Son, please, think about the loneliness, the isolation. Is that how you wish to live? Always afraid, always separate?"

The pain in his father's eyes told Warren the man loved him, but that love stopped at the base of his wings. The feathered appendages dropped, but did not fully close.

_Just say you love me as I-  
><em>_Say you want as I am.  
><em>_Say I'm someone in your eyes.  
><em>_That's all I wanted to be.  
><em>_Oh just let me go!  
><em>_I know one day if I'm allowed…  
><em>_If I'm allowed,  
><em>_One day I'll make you proud._

"But it may not always be that I have to hide. The mutants – the good ones – are trying to change attitudes. I'd like to be part of that!" Had he let too much slip? Would his father ask more about the true nature of Xavier's school?

The powerful man whirled and slammed a fist to his custom Brazilian rosewood desk that cost more than most cars, causing Warren to jump and snap wings tightly closed.

"Don't be naïve! Mutants will always be outcasts. They will always be feared. And what is feared is often destroyed." The business magnate turned sharply again to his son. "Alcatraz made it abundantly clear to the masses that mutants are dangerous. The public won't take time to separate out the good from the bad, Warren. I foresaw this…power corrupts. Mutation blindly places sometimes incredible power into the hands of people ill-equipped to deal with it – even into the hands of criminals. I don't want you to be torn apart by the battle that's coming. I want you are squarely on the right side – our side, by my side."

His throat tightened with emotion. Why did being on the right side have to mean turning his back to what he was?

_All of your life,  
><em>_You've taken chances  
><em>_Broke the rules  
><em>_Time after time._

_All of your life,  
><em>_You've gone your own way.  
><em>_Give me this chance,  
><em>_And I'll go mine._

"I will be, Dad. But just like you did, I want to be my own person. Granddad use to tell me how you would insist on changing things; would go against what he advised. He called you stubborn, but he also said in the end, you were often right. Can't you trust me enough to give me the same chance? To do things my way?" Tears were threatening and Warren fought hard to stay strong.

"I never went as far as you're proposing. I did not turn my back on all our family worked so hard to build."

"I am not turning my back on anything! God, why can't you understand?" So many feelings were welling up that it was getting hard to think clearly. He needed to regroup and find a less emotional argument. He walked over to the large, bay window and heard his father take in a sharp breath as Warren exposed himself to the outside world with wings visible. The mansion was secluded, but there were staff members who might see. Then the window clouded as his father obviously hit the remote. Shortly after his wings emerged and it was decided surgically removing them was too dangerous, his father had all the windows replaced with smart glass.

Warren steadied himself and turned to face his father, ready for round two.

"I want to try this for a while. It could be a good learning experience. Teaching will help me be comfortable in front of people, more confident. Working within the mutant community could gain us important connections. Mutants aren't going away and as their political clout grows, Worthington Industries will need ties to that contingent, especially after…after the cure business. I could help rebuild our reputation with them."

His father's face furrowed. "That approach would only work effectively if you revealed yourself."

"To a select few, yes. To the ones on the 'right' side, Dad. Those working for peaceful co-existence between mutants and non-mutants."

Rebuttal did not come instantly, as he had feared. His father was thinking – a start. Had he hit upon an argument that may actually sway the very business-minded man? Warren held his breath.

The X-men had explained Xavier's dream and it had convinced Warren that he wanted to join the group. Theirs was a lofty, but worthwhile goal. The founder was dead, but the dream lived on in the current core group…the elegant and persuasive Ororo Monroe, also known as Storm; a reserved Scott Summers, codenamed Cyclops; the politically connected Dr Henry McCoy, Beast; and a ruffian named Logan, aka Wolverine.

He was not naïve and understood that having the son of multi-billionaire was an incentive behind the invitation, but he also felt a genuine desire to help him deal with his mutation and to use it for something meaningful. They accepted him – wings and all. If only his own father would.

_Why can't say you love me as I-  
><em>_Say you want as I am.  
><em>_Say I'm someone in your eyes.  
><em>_That's all I wanted to be!  
><em>_Oh, just let me go.  
><em>_I know one day if I'm allowed…  
><em>_If I'm allowed,  
><em>_One day I'll make you proud._

Finally, Warren Jr spoke. "Revealing yourself as a Worthington even to a few is dangerous. That knowledge could be used against us. Imagine the damage if it came out that the only heir to Worthington Industries was a mutant? Many of our stockholders would flee. Board members could resign. Our political connections would suffer. The media would twist what I did as an example of abuse of corporate power for personal gain; not an altruistic effort to help all mutants as we slanted it."

"Isn't that what it _was_ about – to fix me?"

The senior Worthington retook his seat behind the massive desk. "Yes. If not for your condition, I would have never embarked on such a monumental challenge. But so many benefit from what we accomplished. Not everyone wants to be a mutant."

It was true. He had seen some horribly deformed by the X-gene who readily took the cure, and for them, it was a godsend.

"Dad, I want to go to Xavier's."

The reply was instant. "No. You presented an interesting argument, but the potential price is too great. You would put everything we have at jeopardy."

It was a knockdown, just when he believed he had made progress. "But Dad-"

"I'm sorry son, but I cannot support your plan. If you wish to continue to benefit from this family, you must _remain_ with our family – not seek a new one."

_Oh,  
><em>_And trying to please you now is  
><em>_All I seem to do._

Warren went from the pain of defeat to rage. All the built up anger from years of hiding, of feeling that his mutation kept his father's full love at wing's length; that he was flawed…his wings an embarrassment and cruel joke on Worthington genetics. Rage from always putting aside his own desires and submitting to his powerful parent's commands and expectations. The days of looking longingly at the sky, knowing he could not do as his heart…no, his _soul_ desired – to play in the blue firmament and soar with the birds. Too dangerous, too foolish of an indulgence when the wings would be gone soon. Ten long years he'd mostly denied the need to fly and exercise the powerful limbs as nature intended. All because of his father. No more!

"I've _always_ done as you asked!" he yelled, shaking to his very core. "The day I refused to take the cure was the only time I can remember saying no to you. I need to be _me_, Dad." His fist pounded his chest. "Right now, I'm just Worthington's son. I'm nobody right now – just your shadow. If I don't do something on my own, that's all I ever be! I feel trapped – I can't breathe anymore. I need to be Warren. I. Am. A. Mutant!" He punctuated each of the words with a snap of wings. "Accept it, Dad! I have, and I want learn to use what I've been given. I can't do that by your rules!"

The elder's face went red. "Those rules are to protect you and this family – they are not cruel attempts to cage you!"

The choice of words made them both flinch. Gilded cage – he'd once accused his father of putting him in one. Neither man had forgotten that day.

_I've got to be me now 'cause there's already one of you.  
><em>_I'm on my knees, so help me, please!  
><em>_Please don't shoot me down.  
><em>_Though you can't see it now,  
><em>_Someday I'll make you proud._

Silence filled the room that felt thick and suffocating. Warren closed his eyes against the anger and pain. His father did love him, he understood that. Perhaps too much. 'My precious boy' – that's what the man use to call him when he was little…before the wings…before the shameful secret. Never again after that horrifying day. Daddy wanted his precious little boy back. Unfortunately, that would not happen.

Opening his eyes, he stared into the blue orbs that were so like his. "Dad, just tell me you'll support my decision. I need to do this, just for a while. No matter what, I'll always be your son. I won't abandon you – I promise." He let all his angst and need for freedom coat his words and his eyes to plead his case. "I appreciate everything you've done out of love for me. I love you, too – my wanting to experience being what I am will never change that. But at some point, I have to step from out of your shadow and protection. I have to grow up and stand on my own. Find my own strength. Can't you see?" His chest hurt and breathing was difficult as need for understanding tore his soul open. "I'm begging, Dad. Please…please, let me do this _with_ your support!"

Again, the senior Worthington examined him, searching his son's face and eyes. Then slowly, the stoic expression softened. "You need to…stretch your wings."

The phrase was purposeful and carried messages that couldn't be said outright.

"Yes, Dad." Then he swallowed hard to say what he feared the response to most, but it needed to put out there. Even the thought of opening himself up to the hurt nearly strangled the words, but he forced them out. "Someday, Dad, I'll make you proud of me." Tears sprang up and Warren blinked them back quickly, not wanting to show how very vulnerable he was at that moment.

Surprisingly, keen vision caught a glint of water in the other man's eyes as well, and he watched the Adam's apple bob. What were the thoughts and feelings behind the physical responses – disappointment that Warren would never bring his father pride, perhaps? Not as a mutant. Not while he was what he was.

Warren Jr visibly quelled emotion and his body stiffened. Not a good sign, Warren felt. He prepared himself for the hurt.

Unexpectedly, the man Warren had always admired and looked up to despite everything between them, walked to him, and placed a hand on each shoulder. Steel blue eyes locked to crystalline-blues.

"Warren, if I ever gave you the impression that I was not already proud of you, I am eternally sorry. I _am_ proud of you. I'm not the best at expressing my feelings, but do not doubt that. Everything I've done was out of love – to protect you…not because I wasn't proud. You are my son no matter what. I love you more than life."

The hands squeezed, and then dropped. Warren was stunned. His father had never, ever, voiced he was proud. He'd believed all these years that he was an embarrassment that, given enough money and time, could be fixed and made acceptable.

Then even more shockingly, one hand came back up, lightly touched a wing, and then tenderly stroked once down its length. Young Warren shivered both from the physical contact and surprise – it was the first time his father touched an extra limb with anything other than clinical intent.

"Your mother and I created something beautiful, Warren. Sadly, it's a beauty that will not be accepted my most. Perhaps you are too beautiful for such a cruel place as this Earth. That is what I tried to protect you from, not that I didn't believe you a miracle."

There was no longer any denying the tears, and Warren the father let one fall. Warren the son's preconceptions shattered. The wall built up between them over 10 years crumbled.

"I love you, too, Dad," he choked out. They embraced and held tight, Warren's quiet sobs escaping into his father's comforting shoulder. After a minute, they drew back and collected themselves. Worthington men did not give in to emotion for long.

"Go to Xavier's, Warren. Learn what it means to be what you are. You have my blessing." Warren's heart skipped and his eyes widened. "But I hold you to your promise not to abandon our family. I hope you will take the reins of our company one day. I'd like to live to see that."

Warren wanted to leap for joy! He wanted to hug his Dad again and kiss his cheek. He felt like shouting from the rooftops his elation and fly somersaults in the sky. But he did none of those things – Worthington's were more reserved than that.

"I'd like that, too – when I'm ready. Thank you, Dad."

As Warren left the study, he felt light and happier than he could remember being in a very long time. The gilded cage door had flung opened.

And when he walked through the door of Xavier's a few days later, knew he was walking through the door to his future – a new and exciting future.

"I'll make you proud, Dad – you'll see," he whispered quietly as he drew the mansion door closed behind him.

- Finis -

###

_Hope you enjoyed this short story. Looking forward to hearing your opinions and reactions. Please leave a review, share your thoughts, and make this writer leap for joy!_

_Echo Dancer_

"_When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_

###

Uninterrupted lyrics of "Proud"

_All of my life,  
><em>_I have watched you  
><em>_Climbing mountains,  
><em>_Chasing dreams._

_All of my life,  
><em>_You gave me everything,  
><em>_But you don't have to  
><em>_Give the world to me.  
><em>_Just say you love me as I-  
><em>_Say you want as I am.  
><em>_Say I'm someone in your eyes.  
><em>_That's all I wanted to be._

_Oh just let me go!  
><em>_I know one day if I'm allowed…  
><em>_If I'm allowed,  
><em>_One day, I'll make you proud._

_All of your life,  
><em>_You've taken chances,  
><em>_Broke the rules  
><em>_Time after time._

_All of your life,  
><em>_You've gone your own way.  
><em>_Give me this chance,  
><em>_And I'll go mine._

_Why can't say you love me as I-  
><em>_Say you want as I am.  
><em>_Say I'm someone in your eyes.  
><em>_That's all I wanted to be!  
><em>_Oh, just let me go.  
><em>_I know one day if I'm allowed…  
><em>_If I'm allowed,  
><em>_One day, I'll make you proud._

_Oh,  
><em>_And trying to please you now is  
><em>_All I seem to do._

_I've got to be me now 'cause there's already one of you.  
><em>_I'm on my knees, so help me, please!  
><em>_Please don't shoot me down.  
><em>_Though you can't see it now,  
><em>_Someday, I'll make you proud._


End file.
